


The Ghost of You

by thegrounders



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Camp Jaha, Depression, F/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, more tags to come as fic progresses, set right after season 2
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-23
Updated: 2016-01-25
Packaged: 2018-05-02 22:58:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5267066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegrounders/pseuds/thegrounders
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After mount weather, everything changed. </p><p>Bellamy never imaged a life with Clarke but now that she's gone, he didn't want it any other way. Bellamy has to deal with the weight of Clarke leaving him on his own. he feels sadness as he misses her, anger, rage; and then nothing at all. He starts to find himself again and get back on his feet, though he will never return to who he was. The ghost of Clarke will always haunt him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Unlucky Side

**Author's Note:**

> this whole fic is set right after mount weather (season 2).
> 
> i have been working on this chapter for a while and i am so excited to be finally posting it. i really really hope people like this first chapter, enjoy!

“Hey buddy,” Miller called flatly from outside the tent. “It’s time to get up.”

Everything ached as he forced himself to sit upright on the bed. Getting up every morning took all the strength he had, and it was running short. Bellamy looked at his hand—all he could envision was red, the scars reopening to spill out on the floor like they'd done in the test lab. Quickly he closed his eyes, only to open them a couple seconds later, where he still sat on the same bundle of frayed blankets in the same blazed body.

Pulling himself up onto his feet was exhausting. His eyes were bloodshot as he stood staring blankly at the ground. He didn’t want to get up, he wasn’t sure what he was fighting for anymore. Everyday was the same now.

He would get up, put on some clothes, and make his way out to the fences for his morning shift.

He put his clothes on still half asleep, not caring that all of his bones throbbed and most of the bruises hadn’t yet healed. His top used to be a bright blue, but now it’s more like a dark greyish colour. His trousers were in the same state, as they were covered thick with dried in dirt and mud from the time the Grounders attacked the dropship. 

Wandering over, he picked up a piece of glass that lay in the corner of the tent, staring back at himself in the reflection. There was something different about the way his mouth was clenched shut and how his lips turned down at the ends. He grunted and threw the glass away, but only hard enough to crack it slightly.

When he unzipped his tent, all that could be seen was the repetitive sight of everyone doing their jobs. Camp Jaha — minus the Jaha — was functioning as well as it could be considering the circumstances.

They were able to source water from various lakes in the vicinity and accumulate the rain water, which was safe enough to drink once boiled. A few of them had started learning how to hunt, but it was proving hard to feed everyone with the number of people now on the ground.

Adults were walking with jugs, barrels, planks of wood; though they all wore the same look on their faces. The wind blew through the trees, almost as if one ghost was circling the area in search of something. Even though it was only early morning, the sky was dark as though a storm cloud was approaching. Everyone could feel it, too. People walked around with their shoulders slumped and their eyes heavy. The newest arrivals once had been the cleanest, but now everyone was covered in the same exhaustion.

Though everyone was getting fed and watered, the infirmary unit had been packed to the brim ever since Mount Weather. In some way or another, everyone had their own scars. People were going to be ripped apart and left for dead if the war hadn’t been put to an end. Bellamy knew it had to be done.

Medicine was hard to source, but Lincoln had become a very important asset to the team. Without him, Bellamy wasn’t sure if people would have survived without the elderberries Lincoln and Octavia brought back to the camp. They were only a natural flu remedy but they saved a whole lot of people.

He had onlyvisited the infirmary unit once, but it was enough. People were sprawled out on beds or mats on the floor as they lay like prisoners inside their own bodies. Many had bruises, scratches, cut wounds, and pin sized incisions that were made to remove the bone marrow. Tears fell from some of their eyes but others just looked numb of any emotion.

In that mountain they were being treated as experiments instead of human beings, like rats being left to run around helplessly in a cage until they were needed for dissecting.

Bellamy was still walking towards the front gate when his hands turned into fists by his sides. People were tortured there, he was strung up and left to hang like a piece of meat.

No one, not even criminals, deserved that.

When he reached the gate Miller handed over his gun and protective armour left by Jasper. There wasn’t enough to go around the whole camp, so everyone had to swap after each shift. Currently it was set up so five people stood on guard, and this morning it was him and Miller.

“Man, you still look exhausted. If we didn’t need you I would tell you to go back to bed and get some rest,” Miller admitted as he looked carefully at the scratches on Bellamy’s cheeks and the blood on his face. “Have you been for a wash yet?”

“No,” was all Bellamy uttered in reply.

“I’m worried about you, we all are. Is there anything you need to talk about?” His voice was soft as a fond smile made its way across his face.

“No.”

“Okay,” Miller said carefully, as he didn’t want to pry or make him uncomfortable. “If you ever need to talk about anything, I’m here.”

They both stood silent for a moment. Bellamy could see that Miller wasn’t sure if he should move away or stay by his side, as he swayed from one foot to the other. He hadn’t spoken much since everything happened, and the words just came tumbling out.

“Clarke didn’t just not come back inside, she left. Leaving means she might not be coming back. It means leaving us here all alone, me all alone,” he spoke hurriedly as the anger lingered on the end of his tongue. “I don’t know when she will be back, but I’m going to keep watching the tree line until she does. She knows I can’t do this on my own.”

“You’re not on your own. You have me, Jasper, Monty, Lincoln, Raven, and even Octavia. All of us who came down on that drop ship are here and we’re a family now Bell, yeah?”

“Yeah, I got it,” Bellamy offered as he made an effort to sound reassuring, but he was hardly listening.

Instead, his eyes lay upon the distant trees as he scanned the area every few seconds, Miller’s voice becoming a low hum in the background. He was looking for anything; long blonde flowing curls, a blue suit of armour ripped at the edges, or even an angel returning for her broken wings.

Miller eventually knew that Bellamy needed his space, leaving him to be alone with his thoughts as they circled around and around in his head. The other guards kept their distance as they also watched the tree line, though they were looking for something entirely different. Since everything happened, it’d been quiet. No surprise visits from the grounders, or any other groups who just want to kill them and burn them straight on a stick. It was his job to set up the guards, make sure the infirmary was running smoothly and oversee all the other jobs currently on the go inside camp. Kane stepped back and let Bellamy take the lead, and he did so with the full responsibility of everyone’s lives crushing down upon his shoulders.

If Clarke was here, they would have done this together. The weight of everyone would have been shared equally between them, and if one of them were to fall from the pressure on their back; the other would have been there to help them back onto their feet. But Bellamy didn’t have that support. He had to take their shared load and bear it like a cross he could never separate from.

It had been ten days without her. She didn’t tell him where she was going, only that she couldn’t face everyone after what they done together. Bellamy still had to face them, he would have left with her in a heartbeat to escape all of the pain and people he’d hurt but he couldn’t; their people needed a leader.

Someone had to be left behind to clean up all of the blood while the other broke free of their chains to escape into the solace of the woods.

It just so happens the unlucky side of the coin, filled with death and destruction, fell on him.


	2. The Fletcher Flies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bellamy takes off into the woods for a breath of fresh air, leaving the camp behind him. For a moment he is surrounded by trees and birds and nothing in the world could stop how intent he feels—until, he is confronted face to face by the darkness itself. Will Bellamy escape intact?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have created a [**FANMIX**](http://ughbloodybellamy.tumblr.com/post/133818399011/tgoy-fanmix) that you can listen to which accompanies this fic, and also an [**EDIT.**](http://ughbloodybellamy.tumblr.com/post/133818387921/tgoy-edit)

His bloodshot eyes were burning a hole straight through the infirmary unit. His mind was still trapped inside the control room of Mount Weather, his legs nervously tapping on the crumbling ground beneath his feet, when Octavia’s voice in the distance instantly snapped him back to reality.

Bellamy’s head shot up as his heart began to beat out of his chest with the thum of a war drum.

He quickly scanned outside the fences to see that she looked perfectly fine amongst the prickly trees swaying fiercely in the distance; marching in with Lincoln and the other guards on their trip back from Mount Weather.

Octavia suggested that it would be useful to go back and scavenge in the hopes of bringing back anything that was left after the wreckage—the more resources they could find now, the better. Bellamy was stubborn at first, but Lincoln assured him that she would be fine, and even he couldn’t argue with that.

He was still in shock of how much she’d grown up since landing on earth. She wasn’t the little girl anymore who cried at the knock of a door or feared the monsters lurking in the dark, she was finally in her element; surviving on earth, while being her own saviour. She wasn’t scared any longer.

“Alright, listen up everyone!” Octavia shouted loudly once everyone was checked and allowed back inside the camp gates.

Some of the guards came forward and formed a mountain of black bags they each removed one by one from their shoulders.

“We were able to find a lot of supplies, including food, medicine, and of course—weapons,” she paused, taking in the wide eyes around her. “We never know what’s around the corner and it’s about time we all learn how to fight, with weapons _and_ without.”

The crowd turned from whispers to muffled voices either from excitement or fear, Bellamy wasn’t sure which.

Honestly, he couldn’t process anything properly. Voices were conversing inside his head, though it was a combination of different words and noises that he had no idea what they were saying. The sound was getting louder, just as a ringing noise began in his ears. He moved his hands up to cover them in an attempt to make the noise stop, but it wouldn’t. It just got louder, and louder, and louder, until he thought that this his ears might bleed from the deafening sound.

What Bellamy did know in that very moment was that everyone around him had to realise sooner rather than later that this was their reality, you either kill; or you die trying.

His whole body jerked as a hand softly touched his shoulder. “Hey Bell, are you okay?”

Somehow within the last few minutes, his feet had walked him all the over to where Octavia was stood.

The world was quiet now, the trees blowing peacefully in the wind.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” he replied quickly as he began scanning the weapons emptied out onto the ground.

There were guns, knifes, axes, swords, machetes; an array of weapons that would be enough to fuel a whole army—but the one thing that caught his eye was a crossbow. He walked over to pick it up, examining the heavy bow between his callous fingertips.

Up on the Ark, he used to tell Octavia about stories of a man who hunted animals with a bow and arrow in the forest in order to survive. It was all fun and games, and she probably couldn’t remember the story now, but Bellamy had always imagined what it would feel like to shoot a bow of his own. Now, he was standing on earth holding such an item. Never would he have believed such a story (even if there was photographic evidence to prove it).

“I think I’m going to go out and shoot for a while,” he decided while walking over and picking up a bunch of arrows that lay gently on the ground.

“I’m coming with you,” Octavia demanded, grabbing onto his arm at the same time.

“No," he replied sternly. "I need some time alone to clear my head.”

He broke free of her grasp and continued toward the metal gates. Octavia didn’t utter another word, possibly because she understood. She had quickly turned back to attend to everyone else standing around her, while Bellamy stopped in his tracks so that he could catch a glimpse of the whole camp in front of him.

Everyone was gathered around the center, but he could see a divide within the group. Raven and Wick were stood off to one side, but Raven's eyes kept returning to stare at her injured leg with a disheartened look spread across her face. Monty was there too, some scratches and cuts spread across his face, as he stood beside the two of them with a hand on Raven’s shoulder to balance her. Jasper stood with Miller and Harper; probably talking about more tactics on how to further secure the facility. The rest of the delinquents stood by them, the scars and bruises shown on their expressionless faces.

On the other side, stood everyone who came down on the Ark. Abby was still in the infirmary unit recovering from her injuries (though after everything that had happened, she has been avoiding Bellamy at all costs), but Marcus stood among them; he was there as a part of the community and not solely as their leader.

They all equally lived different lives up until this point. Some of them experienced fine dining and dances in pretty dresses and ball gowns as they laughed the night away under the stars. Others weren’t so fortunate, spending their lives rotting away between four walls with their screams being the only thing they could hear, while the marks on the wall counted down the days to their inevitable execution. Now, everyone was sharing the same pain and heartache. They all had been cut sharply by a blade and walked away with a unique scar that went deeper than just skin. Marks were left on their hearts, but not only that, but in their souls, too.

Bellamy really was bearing the world on his shoulders. Everything he could every ask for was right here in front of him, sure, this little group was broken and damaged; but they we’re his responsibility. Someone had to step up and take care of them, and that person would be him.

The only thing missing was Clarke, twelve days been and gone like a whisper in the wind and dusty footprints forgotten on the ground.

*

The branches in the forest moved to let Bellamy through while he walked the muddy paths already marked out on the ground. Some of the oddly shape wooden branches were huge; connecting onto other trees due to the limited amount of space for growth. In some ways they were connected together to become the forest they all knew. Though, separately, each tree needed the one standing beside it in order to stay upright. 

One of the smallest trees was where Robert Stanhope was killed with a spear, it was fired from one of the trees opposite with immense force. He had died instantly. Further down, one of the wider trees to the left, was where Brenda Turner took her last breath before a round blade made up of spikes and sharp points plummeted right into the centre of her leg. She had dropped fast to her knees, crying in pain as she tried her hardest to remove her leg that was sown to the tree; but it was no use. The largest tree to the right, the one that had lots of branches and colourful leaves, marked the death of Oliver Brand who had been shot right through the heart with another poisonous arrow. He died with fear in his eyes as the world he knew around him ceased to exist.

Creatures described by their soft feathers began swooping and diving over his head before returning back to the sky, each of them singing a song of praise before flying off again. The flight enchanted individuals flew in groups of around ten as they made their way towards the glowing sun. Each was a different colour (some where blue, green and lilac) which made them look like exploding fireworks in the sky, as they danced their way through the morning air.

By one of the stumpier trees was where Shalia Edl and Masayo Takada had shared their first kiss. Bellamy remembered when everyone was talking about it in camp, both girls looked embarrassed as their cheeks each turned a scarlet red. Word had made its way around toe Masayo's father, and he wasn't happy to say the least.

Everything around him was painted luminescent green—he couldn’t believe the brightness radiating in all directions. The flowers were still blooming in different colours which reminded him of a dream he had once. He couldn’t remember clearly what happened, but there was a vague picture in his head of flowers growing in every direction, and everything was just happy. Right now he was happy. There was just something about being alone in the trees with the world at his fingertips that made all the pain of yesterday disappear.

Now that he thought about it; he had never properly payed any attention to the flowers surrounding him before. He walked over to a bush where the most beautiful single purple flower had grown. He sat the crossbow to one side before picking the flower off its stem, holding the abundance of petals between his palms as though he were holding a precious stone. He lowered his face as he let the scent tickle the edge of his nose; it smelled sweet and sickly like some sort of candy.

He placed the flower in his jacket pocket, being careful not to squish it flat. Bellamy begun to remember Clarke telling him once about a forest that glowed the deepest colour of blue. Her eyes had lit up, the excitement spreading across her delicate features. Afterwards, she hadn’t shut up about the stupid forest. For hours she went on and on about the way everything sparkled and gleamed and not once had her love for this planet wavered.

He thought that she might like the flower—only to be pricked by a thorn when he remembered that her soul had left camp, and her body, a very long time ago. He decided he would take it back for Octavia instead.

Something up ahead snapped, and Bellamy looked up sharply to see the most gracious creature standing only a few feet away from him.

It was a deer, an animal he hadn’t yet witnessed since landing on the Earth. It was eating from one of the many berry bushes with a grace unlike most of the creatures he knew on the ground. Octavia’s story of a two headed deer came bouncing back to life in his head whilst he stared at the deer, silent and majestic.

It’s ears were long and curvy, with a coat of fur that resembled soft silk, as it shone brightly in the glowing light. It had a tiny black button nose to go along with its eyes like twin stars.

He imaged what her face would be like if he walked through the metal gates to camp with a deer trailing behind him. He guessed it was an adult, due to the sharp pointy things sticking out of its head, so he knew even just by looking at he size that it would provide plenty of food. Everyone could eat their full, everyone could feel some excitement again.

Slowly, he picked up the crossbow and placed it on top of the bush. Carefully, he removed one of the bows from the bag on his back while he furrowed his brows in an attempt to put both pieces together. Within seconds, the bow was fitted inside the crossbow and he was ready to take aim. He lifted the bow with both arms and steadied it as best he could. Bellamy knew that he was a good shot; how difficulty could firing a bow be? He realised quickly that he’d have to shoot fast before the deer noticed his shadow lurking behind the bushes, or heard the sound of his heartbeat racing through his body as he lined up the bow to the section of it’s head.

Once an arrow is launched from it’s bow, there’s no diverting from its path.

And with that, Bellamy pulled the trigger, watching the arrow fly as it pierced through the brightened sky. Everything fell silent, everything was still. The world had stopped completely in that single moment as the arrow took to its own accord and flew straight into the tree behind it’s head.

“Shit,” Bellamy whispered out loud.

His arrow had completely missed and alerted the deer to his now not-so-secret location, but it didn’t run away in utter fear like he was expecting it to. Instead, the animals stood with it’s feet rooted to the ground as it turned to face him straight on.

Then, something unthinkable started to happen. Black fur began to appear rapidly all over the deer’s body while it’s very formation began to change. The deer was starting to resemble a dog, but it was nothing near as loving nor gentle. It’s legs got shorter, more closer together, with sharp claws sticking out on each foot. It grew sharper ears and an enormous black nose to compliment the round amber eyes which held a combustion of dark within. It was transforming and changing, right down to the disgusting smell of its breath. This creature was no longer a deer, innocent and angelic.

This beast was a wolf, violent and snarling with a profound hatred for the world lingering on the end of its tongue.

The wolf raised its head and let out a loud, muffled cry, exposing all forty two sharp teeth that could devour a man whole. Much like earlier, Bellamy’s hands had quickly returned to his ears as the deafening sound shot right through his body.

“Make it stop, make it stop, make it stop!” He screamed, enough that the birds,sat perched upon one of the tallest tree branches, flew away in terror.

The wolf darted straight for Bellamy, and he took off running; abandoning his crossbow in a heap on the ground. His head pounded with confusion and panic and everything in between. He had no idea where he was going or what he was supposed to do. This wasn’t exactly something you could have learned back on the Ark. His head was spinning but he could still see clearly as he ran in a straight line through the trees. The path was still clearly marked out for him on the ground but he knew that he’d have to try and shake the wolf off somehow.

He ducked through one of the offset trees and started running in more of a zigzag direction. The wolf'sgrowls and moans could be heard from behind, but he wouldn’t dare look back to see if his plan was working.

Suddenly, a mass of black clouds started swirling overhead, emerging the whole forest in darkness. If Bellamy didn’t know any better, he would have called this hell. Everything started to look fuzzy; he had no idea where he was in relation to the camp. How would he never make it back?

He had been running for more than a few minutes when his legs started to feel like they were on fire. Carrying his whole body through the treacherous mud now taking its toll. He had to stop, but even one breath could easily cause his life.

The trees were the only thing guarding him from becoming a merciless kill, but before his very eyes all of the leaves began falling to the ground and blinding his way forward. They covered his hair, his face and his eyes. He swatted his arms around like he was trying to catch a fly in an attempt to see through the haze before him. The trees themselves started to move and sway their big branches in haphazard motions. Bellamy had to duck and dive to avoid being knocked out flat. He was still running for his life, panting every time he was able to open his mouth.

Everything was going so well, the trees stopped trying to kill him and he even thought that the wolf might’ve been losing its grip on him—but he stopped dead.

He had to squint his eyes in the dark to see properly, but Clarke was standing behind one of the trees as though she was one herself. Her hair had fallen around her shoulders in neat waves like when she first emerged from the drop ship. She wore the same outfit, too, it was clean and pristine with no scars or wounds. A smile was painted across her face as her eyes shone through the darkness.

“Clarke?” He called into the night.

She didn’t move, not even did she blink. His eyes were transfixed on her when he took a heavy knock to the ground, the full force of his weight slamming into the cold earth. He quickly tried to turn over on his back only to see the deadly creature making it’s way onto his stomach. Drool was falling from it’s mouth and onto his jacket as it stared at him hungrily.

Bellamy tried to hold him back but it was too late; his arms were tied to his sides by a few thin tree vines. They wound all the way around his arms and across his legs like deadly snakes. He tried to struggle against his restraints but it was no use because they were holding him as still as a marble statue. He was trapped with no way of escaping. His heart stopped and his breath slowed down altogether, nothing but guilt and regret was left coursing through his veins.

The wolf brought it’s face down so that he could stare right into it’s eyes one last time, only for something to hit the beast hard as it let out another screeching roar.

Bellamy shut his eyes and emerged himself in a world of darkness. All he could hear was ringing… until a voice so familiar sounded. He could hear them calling, shouting and shaking his body. He didn’t want to open his eyes. Nothing would make him want to lived in a world filled with pain, destruction, war and heartache.

But Clarke was there.

“Come on Bellamy, wake up!” Octavia was screaming into his chest. “Wake up!!”

His eyes snapped open wide. Octavia was a blurred circle hanging over his face until his vision came back into focus. Tears were streaming down her face, her eyes looked puffy and swollen.

“Octavia? I– The wolf, Clarke–”

“You’re okay Bellamy, just put your weight on me.”

With her arm wrapped tightly around his back she began to pull him into a sitting position. He held out his hands to stabilise himself as he felt dizzy and weak, like all the strength had been drained out of him. It was all so confusing—he was right back behind the bush where he had first shot the arrow, only the colour of the bush and the trees was a lot muckier than he remembered.

“What happened?” he blurted out. “Did you take out the wolf?”

“What wolf?”

“The one that attacked me.”

“There was no wolf, Bellamy.”

 ****A second later he let out a laugh that was trapped in his throat, but she didn’t laugh with him. Octavia genuinely looked as confused as he felt, her face still wet from all the fallen tears. He looked around hurriedly but the world just spined in a whirl behind him.

“What do you think happened?” Octavia asked, still holding him up by the hand placed lightly on his shoulder.

“I was about to shoot the deer and I missed. It then started… changing, into this wolf. It ran straight for me and chased me through the woods. I was running for ages, so I don’t understand how I ended up back here. It was going to kill me. I thought I was dead.”

“I promise you Bellamy, there’s no wolf.” she paused, taking in even breaths. “Here, have a look for yourself.”

Octavia had to help him onto his feet because his legs just wobbled beneath him. He balanced himself on the bush as she helped to steady him upright. Bellamy looked straight ahead of him, and true to her word, there was no wolf. There was only the deer, laying still on the ground in a pool of dark red. He scanned around, maybe it got away or escaped; but there was no sign of it ever being there. Not even prints were left in the mud.

Convinced, he let Octavia help him back onto the ground.

“I saw Clarke, she was in the bushes hiding behind one of the trees. I could see her and I was sure it was her. She was smiling at me. How can that not be real? I saw her…” he drifted off.

“I was here the whole time, I’m sorry Bellamy, but she’s gone.”

“Why are you here? Shouldn’t you be at camp?”

“You were acting really strange earlier, like you weren’t really here, so I had to come after you. I was just hiding behind the bushes on the opposite end, so when your arrow missed I went straight for the deer. We couldn’t afford losing it.”

“And then what happened?”

He could see the worry still looming over her, and he just couldn’t help but feel awful for being the one to cause it.

“You just collapsed. It’s been about eight minutes or so, I thought you were… dead,” she whispered.

“What the fuck is wrong with me?” Bellamy abruptly blurted out, as he felt the words clawing at his throat.

All of a sudden, a wave of emotion hit his chest and floods of tears started streaming down his face. He didn’t know what had just happened, he wasn’t sure what was real anymore. Was he dreaming this? Was he going wake up any second now, safe and sound, back at camp in his tent?

It didn’t seem probable. Octavia had moved in closer, she didn’t say anything but only wrappedher arms around him tighter. He sat his head upon her shoulder while she ran her fingers through his hair to comfort him. She let him cry as the tears kept on coming, and coming; flooding down his face in a wet stream. They never seemed to stop.

He reached inside his pocket to pull out the flower for Octavia; only to find Clarke’s fathers watch instead.

**Author's Note:**

> please let me know what you think of this fic. if you enjoyed it please let me know by commenting and leaving kudos! thank you so much for reading.


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